Teach Me How To Be Bad

"You're not bad, you're boring."

"I am not boring!"

"Then prove it." He leans in towards me as we sit on my bed. Our faces are so close, I can smell the smoke residue on his tongue. Our eyes meet and I feel my body shiver under his stare.

"I can't." I look away from him feeling self conscious.

"See..." He laughs and backs away from me. My insides become heated with annoyance as he mocks me. I hate this kid. I shouldn't have to prove myself to him, he's nothing but trouble, but a trouble I desperately desired. I didn't want to be boring anymore, I wanted to live life, I wanted to be bad.
I get a sudden confidence boost and look up into his eyes. My small hand finds its way to his knee and I begin to lean into him, making me hand slide up his thigh. His eyes become wild and his breathe hitches in his throat and I can see the curiosity raising in him.

"Then maybe,"my lips brush against his ear, making goosebumps rise on his skin. "you should teach me how to be bad."